


Hellsong

by barefootxo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Hellsing, Vampires (1998)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Vampire Xander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootxo/pseuds/barefootxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hen two of the Scoobies get caught up in Ethan Rayne's shenanigans, the Hellmouth receives two surprises in return, welcome and unwelcome depending on who you ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hellish Song to Sing

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They are owned by Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano, respectively. I also don't own the song Even in Death. That belongs to Evanescence.  
  
~~  
  
 **Hellsong Theme Song: Even at Night**  
~ re _vamp_ of Even in Death  
  
Give me a reason to believe that they’re wrong  
I see your darkness and I hear your Hellsong  
Blood red moonlight spilled tonight  
Defiling this land of ours  
The song stole you away from me and now you’ll never come home  
  
You will live here for eternity  
Night childe  
The softly whispered words you sing now  
Even at night I hear Hellsong  
  
Some say you’re crazy now my friend, Oh my friend  
And no bonds can hold you to me, in the end  
All I know is that you’re not well  
‘Cause I can hear you singing of Hell  
  
You will live here for eternity  
Night childe  
The softly whispered words you sing now  
Even at night I hear Hellsong  
And you can't live now, not the way that I do  
  
You will live here for eternity  
Night childe  
The softly whispered words you sing now  
Even at night I hear Hellsong  
And you can't live now, not the way that I do  
  
People die, but you will die forever.  
  
**  
  
 **Chapter I: Yesterday was Halloween**  
  
Rupert Giles was rather taken aback by the appearance of his slayer that morning. It was the morning after Halloween and the last night had been incredibly chaotic. Willow had come in babbling about everyone turning into their costumes. Willow had turned into a ghost, Larry a pirate and so on… The only thing Giles wasn’t sure of was what his slayer had gone as… or Xander, for that matter. According to Willow, whoever Buffy had dressed as had been coldly dismissive of her and walked calmly through the chaos of the previous night without any of it seeming to touch her. As for Xander, Willow hadn’t even been able to nail down where he was that night. It was like he had dropped off the face of the earth.  
  
And so Giles had done the telephone rounds and ordered the slayer and her merry little band into the library for an evening debrief…  
  
Willow appeared, at first glance anyway, to be unchanged by the events of the previous night’s activities. She was still wearing clothing that Miss Chase would consider to be from the ‘softer side of Sears’ and purchased by Willow’s mother rather then Willow herself. She appeared unsure how to take Buffy’s shift in attitude, that was sure.  
  
Buffy, in stark contrast, appeared to be changed in some monumental fashion by the events of the previous. Frankly, Giles couldn’t help but be pleased and impressed by the improvements Buffy had made overnight in her posture and bearing. And that didn’t even begin to address the suit and glasses she was wearing in stark contrast to her usual mode of dress. She was currently peering calmly over her glasses at him, obviously waiting for Giles to start the debrief.  
  
Finally Giles allowed a disapproving glance to fall on the empty seat that Xander should have been waiting. While the boy was not known for his promptness, he was usually much better at being on time for ‘Scooby meetings’. Therefore, he couldn’t help being disappointed by Xander’s casual disregard for the importance of this sort of thing.  
  
“I suppose we’ll have to start without Xander. I was hoping to get a report from all of you on any after-effects you’ve experienced from last night’s activities. Willow?”  
  
Willow shrugged expressively. “Nothing really. Can’t pass through anything or whatever. No effects…”  
  
Giles nodded, unsurprised. “Very well. Buffy?”  
  
If anything, Buffy stiffened even more in her chair. “Elizabeth, if you please, Rupert. I must admit to acquiring a certain distaste for that nickname last night.”   
  
Giles felt his jaw drop slightly at the distinctly English lilt that coloured Buffy… Elizabeth’s speech now.  
  
“I find myself retaining all of the memories, skills and magical ties of my body’s temporary tenant of the previous night. I should also note that I’ve picked up certain tastes and habits of hers, as evidenced by my choice of clothing today. I am currently attempting to restrain that rather nasty smoking habit she has, which I must admit to having some difficulty with…”  
  
Giles had difficulty restraining himself from sputtering incoherently. “And just who were you dressed as last night.”  
  
At this Elizabeth simply recited with utter calm. “I was Sir Integral Fairbrook Windgates Hellsing, member of the Protestant Knights and Director of the Hellsing Organisation.”  
  
Now wasn’t that a mouthful? “And you said retain everything…”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
“Including certain mystical ties. What might those be?”  
  
Elizabeth allowed herself a slight smile at that. “I am currently magically bound to my bodyguard and servant.”  
  
Giles could not help but become curious at that. “And who are they?”  
  
“They are he… and he is me…”  
  
If Giles had thought Buffy… Elizabeth had changed drastically, it was nothing compared to the changes in his male charge. Xander wore a suit. On Buffy it was strange but on Xander it was downright strange. All that he lacked was the suit jacket, which he had replaced with a flowing black cape which was clasped at his throat by a simple silvery chain. A longsword was prominently on display upon Xander’s left hip and an insolent smirk graced the lad’s face. Perhaps most prominent of all were his now blood red eyes, which seemed to drip with a certain subdued dismissiveness, as if it was Xander’s natural instinct to snub everyone in the room and he was restraining.  
  
After a long moment, Xander turned his sole attention to Elizabeth and dropped submissively to one knee, his head bowed. “Night has fallen… What is thy bidding, my Master?”  
  
Elizabeth’s lips quirked slightly, apparently finding something infinitely amusing about Xander’s little play here. Giles didn’t see it himself, but he was cut off from saying anything by Elizabeth’s voice ringing out in response to Xander’s question. “Your orders have not changed, Alexander. Search and destroy…”  
  
Xander’s grin widened to the point where he looked vaguely psychotic, raising his head to lock eyes with Elizabeth. “As you wish, my Master…” With that, Xander burst into a flock of bats which raced wildly out the door.  
  
Elizabeth turned her face, still wearing that barely perceptible half-smile, back to Giles and asked him quite calmly, “Any further questions, Rupert?”  
  
Giles nodded. “Do you have any thoughts on why you and Xander were the only one significantly altered by Ethan’s spell?”  
  
Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “I believe it resulted due to the nature of Alexander’s transformation. The spell simply wasn’t built to deal with someone of that power level and so it was unable to strip away the results quite so easily. It’s an interesting grey area, too powerful to be properly revoked from Alexander and yet not so powerful as to be impossible for a God of Janus’ power to call forth.”  
  
Giles was shocked. The analysis was valid and well thought out. He was hard pressed to not ask her if she was what Xander had once called… a pod person… yes, that was it… Buffy Summers was many things, but one of the great thinkers of all times was not among them, at least in Giles’ very private thoughts. “And what of yourself. Not to be offensive, but this Sir Integra does not seem nearly so… potent.”  
  
Elizabeth allowed a benign expression to cross her face. “You will find that the nature of the bond between myself and Alexander was the catalyst for why I too retained everything of what my… former tenant… was.”  
  
Giles just groaned and wondered what he was going to tell the Council. They’d probably be ecstatic to find the current slayer was more… English… then she’d been before. Still, he couldn’t begin to guess what they’d make of Xander. To be honest, Giles wasn’t all that certain of what to make of Xander’s new personality and abilities either. The boy seemed more irreverent then ever, but his abilities ought to at least be rather useful.  
  
Giles looked at Willow, believing that she’d have the most insight into Xander’s psyche. However, one glance at her gob-smacked expression and half-frightened demeanor told him that she wouldn’t have any answers for him this time.  
  
And so Giles turned to Xander’s… Master. “I’m sorry Buffy, whom did you say Xander had dressed as, last night.”  
  
Her expression darkened, telling Giles he’d said something wrong. “I asked you to call me Elizabeth, Rupert. Do try and keep that straight, wouldn’t you?”  
  
Giles felt an internal cringe occur at her rather cool tone.  
  
“And, I didn’t tell you. However, I would be willing to do so. Alexander dressed as Sir Integra’s prime bodyguard and servant… his name is Alucard…”  
  
Giles could not help but recognise something significant about the name, almost immediately… ‘Alucard… Alucard…  
A L U C A R D… D R A C U L A… Dracula!!!’ Giles cringed slightly, but forced himself to ask. “Alucard… as in Dracula reversed?”  
  
Elizabeth graced him with the almost smile again. “Very good, Rupert. Precisely that.”  
  
Giles nodded and walked into his office before closing the door and sitting down heavily. “Oh bugger…”  
  
~~  
  
Bugger indeed. Alas, poor G-man. :p  
  
Jasper


	2. What's My Line: Part I

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They are owned by Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano, respectively.  
  
Opinions of Angel expressed by Elizabeth and/or Alexander are uncharitable to say the least...  
  
~~  
  
 ** _Abandoned Warehouse  
November 15th 1997_**  
  
Spike, formerly William Ragsdale, sat sulking in his warehouse lair, desperately trying to figure out how to deal with the slayer long enough to bring Drusilla up to full strength again. The former member of the Scourge of Europe had been incredibly frustrated by the seeming empowerment of the whelp and the chilling new attitude the slayer seemed to have towards the undead these days. This particular slayer had always seemed a touch less focused then her predecessors. Not now. These days she was a juggernaut, hell bent on destroying the undead completely…  
  
Spike had thought that maybe Billy Fordham might catch her off guard, but the little twit had been stupid enough to ask the whelp to turn him. When the whelp had figured out that Ford had initially intended to give ‘Elizabeth’ to Spike as payment for being turned, the bloody madman had thrown the dying boy through a plate glass window. Billy Fordham had, ironically enough, spent his last days on life support for a set of injuries completely unrelated to his fatal illness. When Ford had, on his deathbed, asked why the whelp wouldn’t turn him, the kid had claimed Ford was a coward, unworthy of being Nosferatu. If Spike was truly honest with himself, he agreed completely. The sniveling Ford had been no loss, though his usefulness had gone with him, which was unfortunate.  
  
It was in the height of his sulk that Drusilla began turning over her cards, hinting at things that would be coming for the slayer. Noting the shapes seen, Spike came to an epiphany. “The Order of Taraka. If anyone can keep the slayer and her uber-whelp distracted, it’s them.” Spike shouted for Dalton before realising that the moron had gotten himself killed by the whelp. He then called for Henry to help him get the contract set up. The more distracted the slayer and her bodyguard were, the better things would be. “Let’s see how clever you really are, Slayer. It’s time to bring the game up to the next level…”  
  
**  
  
 ** _1630 Revello Drive  
November 17th 1997_**  
  
Elizabeth Summers walked calmly into her room, considering the change in her relationship with her mother over the past few weeks. Knowing as she did that concealing her changes from her mother would be impossible, Elizabeth had decided to lay everything on the table before her mother. Joyce had been avidly denying it up until Elizabeth had calmly pulled a pistol and put a half dozen bullets into Alexander, who burst out laughing, saying that they tickled.  
  
Joyce had not known how to take the fact that her daughter had been the slayer. She had even less frame of reference to finding her daughter had some sort of soul bond with a youth who was arguably the most powerful vampire in existence, or that her daughter now felt an incredible sense of responsibility towards taking back the night.  
  
Finding out that the sweet boy she had dreamed of having as her son-in-law was now the No-Life-King was almost worse. Joyce had held out a certain hope that Elizabeth would see Alexander in a romantic way since she had met the lad. That possibility had seemed utterly extinguished when Alexander had broken down sniggering and her daughter had finally lost patience with him, firing another spray of bullets and telling him to get out.  
  
Elizabeth sighed. She allowed Alexander to get under her skin too easily these days. The damned vampired was even worse then Alucard had been with his twisted sense of humour. Alexander seemed to delight in having his blood in more and more twisted ways. He’d slurped it like tomato soup, poured it into a wine glass… He was incorrigible.  
  
“Buffy?”  
  
Elizabeth spun around, pointing her Walther PPK at the intruder. “What are you doing here, Trash?”  
  
Angel looked vaguely hurt. Tough. “I just wanted to make sure you got home alright. Ever since you lost your slayer abilities… well, I’ve been worried about you.”  
  
Elizabeth was not impressed. “Let me inform you of something, Trash. How I am doing is none of your concern. I do not consort with demon-breed vampires as a matter of course any longer. I also find myself questioning your motives.”  
  
Angel’s hurt expression was anything but vague now. “What are you talking about? I’ve done the best I could for you!”  
  
“Like your wonderful warnings about Drusilla’s return?”  
  
“I’m sorry. I felt guilty about turning her, okay?”  
  
“No it is not, Angel. You allowed one of your childer to operate on the Hellmouth without my knowledge, endangering countless lives in the process. And that is just one occasion. I could name countless others since you came to Sunnydale…”  
  
Angel looked very sad for a moment. “What ever happened to Buffy? The one who used to trust me? Remember her?”  
  
Elizabeth’s face could have been cast from iron. “Buffy was an idealistic child who fell prey to more manipulators then you could shake a stick at. You being the foremost among them.”  
  
“I never manipulated Buffy.”  
  
“Lies. What about the Master’s cave?”  
  
“I brought Xander to the cave and Xander saved her… your life. What was manipulative about that?”  
  
“Even now you attempt it. Fine, I’ll ask the question that Buffy was too naïve to ask at the time. Why bring Alexander?”  
  
“You had drowned! I’m a vampire. No breathing remember.”  
  
Elizabeth smirked. “You must think I’m as foolish as she was, Angelus. Two lies in three sentences. We’ll deal with the second first, shall we? How can Spike smoke a cigarette the way he does if he can’t breath. Oh, I know he doesn’t need to, but he’s capable of it. That means that you, the sire of his sire, should be equally capable.”  
  
Angel flinched. “That’s one lie. I’ll admit that I panicked and didn’t think of that at the time. I was embarrassed and so I didn’t bring it up.”  
  
Elizabeth shrugged. She had known he would dodge that point. It didn’t concern her in the slightest. She had been saving the big stuff for last. “And how did you know I had drowned?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You claimed to have brought Alexander because I had drowned and someone needed to be there to give CPR.”  
  
Angel must have eaten recently, because he blushed brightly. He knew full well that she had caught him in a falsehood and had likely gotten the whole story from Xander. What was worse was that she’d take Xander’s word over his these days. “So you’re dropping me for Xander? What is this, some kind of trade up to a better grade of monster?”  
  
Elizabeth snorted. “Me? Date Alexander? You must be maddened, Trash. Alexander is a vampire. Granted, he is a particularly unique and powerful one, but that just makes him a more useful tool. His bindings to my service combine to make him a trustworthy tool. The same cannot be said of the so-called vampire with a soul, now can it?”  
  
Angel flinched at that verbal salvo, delivered in such an icy voice that he felt it chill his very bones. “So we’re done then?”  
  
Elizabeth stared at Angel fiercely, her resolve unshaken. A small portion of the idealist within her cried out to give her one-time soul mate another chance, but Elizabeth ruthlessly crushed the impulse. “Done what, Angelus. To finish something between us would imply that there was something in the first place. All there ever was were lies and manipulations from you, mixed up with foolish idealism from me and a disturbing fixation on tragic romance by Miss Willow that caused her to push me towards you.”  
  
Angel nodded absently and slipped out of the window, certain now that it truly was over. Buffy no longer existed and Elizabeth would barely tolerate him as an ally. He would never understand later just how lucky he’d been.  
  
Elizabeth extended her senses and nodded at what they told her. “You can come out now, Alexander.”  
  
Alexander slipped through the wall as if it weren’t there. “What is your opinion of that trash, my Master?”  
  
Elizabeth’s lip curled slightly. “He may yet prove a useful ally. Still, it is best to take no chances, Alexander. You will be watching over me while I sleep, until such time as we can get Rupert or Miss Calendar to initiate a deinvitation spell. I dislike entering my bedroom to find a master vampire is making himself at home, regardless of his supposed soul. I may not be able to prevent you from visiting when you will, but I’ll be damned if I allow any of that vermin such access when I can prevent it.”  
  
“Would you like me to watch over you in the shower, too?” The grin on Alexander’s face was positively lecherous, not to mention incorrigible.  
  
“Do you truly enjoy being shot that much?” Alexander simply shrugged, though Elizabeth could tell he’d never actually do so, even without their bond. Well… not without her permission anyway, and he would never have that one…  
  
‘Never say never, Master. You never know when you’ll need me in your shower.’  
  
‘Alexander, the day I need you in my shower will be the day I die…’  
  
~~  
  
Be careful what you wish for...  
  
Jasper


	3. What's My Line: Part II

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They belong to Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano respectively.  
  
~~  
  
 _Abandoned Warehouse  
November 18th 1997_  
  
“She is no longer the slayer. That simplifies matters nicely.”  
  
“She is rarely without the boy. The boy is an incredibly powerful individual. That recomplicates matters nicely.”  
  
“Agreed. Extreme caution is called for. We must first remove the boy before we can move on the girl.”  
  
“We know nothing of the extent of the boy’s power. It is obviously very great. Killing him would be very difficult and will alert the target to our presence.”  
  
“I said we had to remove him, not kill him. He patrols nightly. One of our number should hopefully be sufficient to distract him whilst another of our number removes the target from this world.”  
  
“Agreed. I will take the boy.”  
  
“And I the target.”  
  
“And I will prepare a backup plan in case this one fails. Agreed?”  
  
“Agreed.”  
  
“Agreed.”  
  
**  
  
 _Happy Trails Cemetery  
November 18th 1997_  
  
Alexander strolled calmly through the cemetery in his hunting clothes. He had chosen his Lord of the Sith garb, in which he’d made his debut with Giles, for patrol again, because he thought it worked with his sword. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was being stonewalled by the Watcher’s Council as far as procuring the type of consecrated ammunition favoured by Hellsing and it wasn’t exactly something that was easy to get a hold of given how it was made.  
  
Alexander sniffed in disgust. He had offered to go to the Vatican himself to get the fixings, but Elizabeth had gone and gotten all pissy with him, informing him that he was, under no circumstances, to go to the Vatican and risk angering Iscariot. Alexander sneered. He had wondered if any of the lot of today were a match for the Judas Priest himself, Alexander Anderson. It bothered Alexander slightly that he thought of Anderson as a real person, almost as much as it bothered him to have a name in common with the fanatical Catholic.  
  
So much was he concentrating on what he could have done had his master allowed him to go to the Vatican that he was taken off guard when the giant one-eyed man had slammed him hard, knocking him all askew. He cursed himself silently, even as he dodged the big man’s rapid movements. Elizabeth had told him not to kill humans unless it was absolutely necessary and unfortunately for the Nosferatu, absolutely necessary was a very small percentage, given how much damage they could take and get up from.  
  
“Die boy!”  
  
Now that was just rude. Alexander couldn’t help but enjoy batting the ignorant fool about, playing with him almost. “I’m already dead, you idiot.”  
  
The man didn’t skip a beat, leveling a powerful punch at Alexander and causing him to catch sight of a distinctive ring. It was such a shock that Alexander allowed himself to be struck again, causing him to grunt in mild discomfort. Grabbing the arm of the big man and twisting it in a fashion that caused the man to scream in pain, Alexander examined the ring. The Order of Taraka? This was very bad. He yanked the ring from the man’s finger and held it up to double check. Yup.  
  
Master was in danger. He had to move. Then Alexander grinned. This had to be one of those absolutely necessary moments, right? Killing a human that kept him from his Master’s side when she might be in danger. With his excuse firmly in place, Alexander grabbed a hold of one of the man’s arm and began to swing the giant of a man around like he would for hammer-throw. “Have a nice flight…” And with that Alexander let the assassin fly with a grin, allowing the man to fly at terrifying speed into a mausoleum, making a terrible crunching noise.  
  
“He may not have been able to kill you, Monster, but I am de slayer.”  
  
Alexander looked up and saw a coffee-skinned girl adopting a fighting stance and obviously intending to fight him. “You got a ring?”  
  
The girl, preparing for an attack, had not expected the odd question. “What?”  
  
Alexander grinned. “Never mind, sweetie. Some other time. Master needs me.” And with that he burst into a swarm of bats, causing the slayer to stand there for some time in her utter shock.  
  
“They didn’t cover dat one in de Demonology books…”  
  
**  
  
 _1630 Revello Drive  
November 18th 1997_  
  
Elizabeth Summers relaxed as she enjoyed the feeling of the hot water streaming down her back. Showers were one of the few luxuries she allowed herself in life. The soothing quality of the hot water allowed her to work the kinks out of her back from the annoyingly simple school work and the incredibly hard campaigning she was doing with the Watchers’ Council.  
  
Not only were those stuck up wankers, and she still had difficulty believing she used words like that, denied all of her requests for better ammunition and such-like, those idiots were going so far as to send the new slayer to replace her, since they regarded an ‘American non-slayer and her vampire pet’ to be disloyal to the interests of the Council. And here she had thought their concerns involved protecting the world. Silly her. ‘I’m supported by idiots. Well, perhaps supported is a poor word. I’m supposed to be supported by idiots, but even the idiots have withdrawn their support.’ Elizabeth began to seriously think about asking the Queen to intercede on her behalf, but the problem was that she didn’t know what the Queen would think of supporting an American ex-slayer over her home-grown Council. ‘Perhaps I should talk to Rupert about this, he might be familiar enough with the politics of this world’s Britain to help me navigate it better.’  
  
It was then that Elizabeth heard a distinct noise in her room. “Alexander? If you are even considering entering my shower I’ll have you know I’m still armed.”  
  
It was in that moment that she heard the bangs beginning that she dodged aside. It was a wonderful move, but made too late, sparing her only one of the six police-issue bullets that had been fired into her shower from the doorway.  
  
As Elizabeth lay half in and half out of her tub she called out desperately with her mind. ‘Alexander!’  
  
**  
  
 _Outside Willy’s Alibi Room  
November 17th 1997_  
  
A frustrated Kendra dragged the unconscious Master Vampire into the room and locked him up to await the dawn. She grinned. That would teach the undead freak to try to convince her he had a soul. The very concept was ridiculous. Besides, who cared if the sub-moronic fool had a soul? She was the slayer, he was a vampire. End of story.  
  
Even she allowed herself some satisfaction at the coming death of the vampire, she growled in frustration at her inability to track the strange demon that could turn into bats at a whim and fling a human easily further then any vampire or even perhaps a slayer.  
  
Still, she intended to kill him. That demon was hers. If she could only find him. Perhaps Mr. Zabuto would be able to assist her…  
  
**  
  
 _1630 Revello Drive_  
November 17th 1997  
  
Alexander tore into the Summers residence like a tornado, easily snapping the neck of the uppity little cop that was reloading her weapon for a second round of bullets to put into his Master. After doing so he flung the woman out an open window as hard as he physically could, enjoying the way she flew through the air like Supergirl. His grin widened. Except Supergirl wouldn’t have crashed gracelessly into Harmony Kendall’s yard. That would have to do.  
  
Putting the cop, probably the second assassin, from his mind, Alexander rushed into his Master’s bathroom, desperately urging her to be wrong in her unintentional prophecy of the night before…  
  
~~  
  
Dun dun dun!!!  
  
Jasper


	4. What's My Line: Part III

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They belong to Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano respectively.  
  
~~  
  
 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
November 19th 1997_  
  
“How is she, Xander?”  
  
Alexander turned to find an incredibly small-looking Willow behind him. Despite his transformation, Alexander could not help but feel bad for Willow. Through no fault of her own, her two best friends had almost become strangers to her. Her best girl friend had become an incredibly driven vampire hunter who had little time for much outside of her self-appointed duty. Worse still, her best friend since kindergarten had transformed from an irreverent boy she fancied into an equally irreverent monster. It was perhaps the small flicker of Xander still within him that caused Alexander to draw Willow into a hug. “She’ll be fine, Little Tree. My Master is strong and I got to her almost immediately after it happened.”  
  
Willow allowed herself a long moment to revel in his embrace as she sobbed out her worries about her wounded friend.  
  
**  
  
 _Abandoned Warehouse  
November 19th 1997_  
  
Norman grimaced as he considered the events of the past night. Both of his fellow assassins had been steamrolled by Alexander. Patrice had managed to do some damage to the primary, but according to the hospital records she was going to live. Worse still, Alexander was standing guard at the girl’s door with an insane devotion that made the assassin quail inside.  
  
The assassin thought long and hard about his options. The pride of the Order of Taraka was at stake. They could not fail to complete an assigned contract. It simply wouldn’t do.   
  
A slow grin came to the man’s face as he remembered a certain advantage of his. Perhaps there was a way after all.  
  
**  
  
 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
November 19th 1997_  
  
Consciousness returned slowly to Elizabeth Summers. It was lucky for her that she had dodged at the last second from Patrice’s volley of bullets. That, combined with the obscuring shower curtain, had been enough to leave her with non-mortal wounds. The only danger had been of bleeding out and Alexander’s rapid response had covered that issue.  
  
Elizabeth finally blinked her eyes open to find her primary servant grinning psychotically at her. “Welcome back to the land of the living, my darling master. I suppose I can tell Dawn that she won’t be my new master after all. She’ll be so disappointed.”  
  
Elizabeth smiled weakly at the vampire’s antics. “Dawn would enjoy that too much. She’s had a crush on you since we moved here. It scares me sometimes that she seems even more entranced by you now that you are a vampire.”  
  
Alexander smirked at the thought of the youngest Summers. He thought her crush on him was absolutely hilarious. “Then I shall endeavour to keep you alive, Master. I would not want your sister to ravish me.”  
  
Elizabeth simply rolled her eyes in response and switched topics. “Report, Alexander.”  
  
The vampire quickly snapped to attention, beginning his report. “We were both attacked by assassins of the Order of Taraka last night. Both of them are now dead. I do not yet know about the third. I felt that since you are likely the target, that leaving your side at this time would be unwise. Your mother and sister are currently staying with Willow until I can confirm that the last assassin is dead.”  
  
Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction. “Well done, Alexander. Continue about your duties.”  
  
“Yes, my master…”  
  
**  
  
 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
November 20th 1997_  
  
Norman felt great pleasure as he crept softly into the hospital through the numerous cracks and crevasses in the place. It was midnight, a quiet hour long past visitor’s hours, which hopefully meant that the boy had been kicked out.  
  
The boy was dangerous, that was certain, but he couldn’t kill that which he couldn’t see. Norman had disincorporated his body into the bug forms that allowed him to enter the hospital through stealth. The concept was to to recompile his body in side Summers’ room and then to simply stab her in her sleep. The vampire would never get the chance to interfere. It was perfect.  
  
Norman felt a slight twinge as one of his bug forms winked out of life. Norman offered a mental shrug at that. Someone had probably stepped on it. It was one of the dangers of this form. Luckily, someone would have to kill massive numbers of the bugs in order to harm Norman permanently. Another twinge. Norman felt a faint twist of nervousness at that. Still, he fought it down. Two dead was unusual, but not unheard of.  
  
At the third and fourth twinges, Norman accelerated the pace of his primary bug form, wondering what sort of devilishly affective anti-bug devices had been installed in this hospital. Another twinge… and another. And finally Norman had an answer as a bat began flying towards him. ‘Insectivore!’ Norman’s mental scream cut off by the bat that ate him.  
  
**  
  
 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital_  
November 20th 1997  
  
Elizabeth awoke again to find her servant grinning in a particularly irritating manner. “Talk to me, Alexander. What has you in such a good mood, this morn?”  
  
The vampire’s grin widened, if anything. “I am pleased to inform you, Master, that the third assassin has been dealt with. He was delicious.”  
  
Elizabeth rolled her eyes dutifully at the vampire’s exuberance. “And you are sure that he is the third?”  
  
Alexander loosed a rather loud belch before spitting a glittering object into his hand. He held it up proudly, displaying a Tarakan ring.  
  
Alexander’s Master sighed. “I don’t want to know how you came to swallow that ring, Alexander.”  
  
The annoying vamp opened his mouth for a moment and then appeared to rethink things for once. “You’re probably right, Master. Suffice it to say that the Order of Taraka won’t be bugging you any more.”  
  
Elizabeth dutifully ignored the damnable vampires peculiar emphasis on the word bugging.  
  
“Night has fallen, my Master. What are your orders?”  
  
“Am I being guarded, Alexander?”  
  
“The Little Tree and the Watcher are both guarding your door. With the assassin gone, it should be sufficient.”  
  
Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction. “Then your orders have not changed, Alexander. Search and destroy. Remind the inhabitants of the Hellmouth that Hellsing has not forgotten them.”  
  
The vampire’s grin was murderous. “With pleasure.”  
  
~~  
  
  
Jasper


	5. Threat Level Rising

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Hellsing or Vampires. They are owned by Joss Whedon, Kouta Hirano and John Streakley respectively.  
  
~~  
  
 _Tarakan Grand Arena  
November 21st 1997_  
  
“Master.”  
  
“Yes, Wade.”  
  
“Norman, Patrice and Octarus failed you.”  
  
The Master of the Order of Taraka sighed. “Patrice and Octarus were new and inexperienced. Their loss will be a burden, but survivable. Norman was a canny assassin, though. It is distressing that he would have failed too.”  
  
“Reports show that the target was protected by a being of extraordinary power, Master. His name is Alexander. He reputedly slew all of our assassins with relative ease.”  
  
“I don’t recall a bodyguard of great power being mentioned when we agreed to the contract, Wade. Who was the client?”  
  
“William the Bloody, Master.”  
  
“Has he paid us for our time as yet, Wade?”  
  
“No, Master.”  
  
“Then terminate the contract. I have no use for beings that leave out important details like that.”  
  
“And Alexander?”  
  
“For the moment? Nothing. Watch and wait, Wade. Assign a wraith to spy on the lad’s movements. Study him, Wade. I wish to know everything.”  
  
“And once we do… we kill him, Master?”  
  
The Master smirked at his servant, a superior expression if there ever was one. “Of course not, Wade. Once we have studied him, we wait for someone to put out a contract. A being of such power will not be able to help angering someone.”  
  
“As you say, Master.”  
  
“Yes, I do…”  
  
**  
  
 _Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles Office  
November 21st 1997_  
  
“The Shanshu Prophecy is in conflict.”  
  
All the various assembled lawyers of Wolfram and Hart felt their heads shoot up at the six word sentence spoken by Holland Manners.  
  
“How is that possible?” Gavin Park was the first one to have the courage to speak up.  
  
Manners frowned slightly at that. “It seems that there is another vampire with a soul in existence.”  
  
A snort originated from Lee Mercer. “Who is it this time, William the Bloody?”  
  
A soft chuckle echoed through the offices at the absurdity of the statement. Even Holland cracked a slight smile. “No, Spike is still deliciously soulless in every way. No, a young man named Alexander Harris was transformed into a vampire by the actions of a mage named Ethan Rayne.  
  
“For whatever reason, this young man also retains his soul.”  
  
“So what do we do if we have two ensouled vampires?”  
  
Lindsey McDonald spoke up for the first time since entering. “We corrupt them both. If they are both on the side of Wolfram and Hart, then all our bases are covered.”  
  
Holland smiled proudly at the Texan. “Very good, Lindsey. Yes, we corrupt them both.”  
  
“Lindsey, you get Alexander.”  
  
Holland then turned to Lindsey’s little arch-nemesis. “And you, Lilah, get Angelus. Any questions?”  
  
Both lawyers shook their heads. They were paid to improvise.  
  
**  
  
 _Vatican City  
November 21st 1997_  
  
“Jack.”  
  
“Your Eminence?”  
  
“There is a vampire problem in Sunnydale.”  
  
Jack Crow, the Vatican’s top vampire hunter, snorted in mild disgust. “Would it be considered… impertinent, if I was to remind you that Sunnydale is on the hellmouth? There’s always a vampire problem on the hellmouth. It comes with the territory.”  
  
Cardinal Alba sighed theatrically. “There are times I wish you were a priest so that I could force you to do penance for trying my patience like that.”  
  
Crow smirked unashamedly at the Cardinal. “Patience is a virtue, your Eminence. I thought you’d be happy if I tried yours.”  
  
The Cardinal’s lips quirked slightly. “My gravest sin is greed, I’m afraid. I want to keep all of my patience to myself. Perhaps you should try procuring your own?”  
  
Jack rapidly grew tired of the word play. “What’s the problem in Sunnydale that is unusual enough to justify calling me in?”  
  
“A vampire of power beyond anything we have ever seen before. A local priest in Sunnydale mentioned that even the local demon elements are growing frightened of it. So far it seems to be preying on it’s brethren, but you and I both know that it is only a matter of time before this beast reverts to type and Sunnydale becomes a bloodbath.”  
  
“What of the slayer? The Council of Watchers guard the hellmouth very jealously. They definitely don’t like the church sticking their noses in what they perceive as their business.”  
  
“A slayer is powerful, but the vampire in question is exceedingly dangerous. In this matter I am not willing to trust the Council to get the job done.”  
  
Crow nodded, looking thoughtful. “You’ve got a deal, your Eminence. To Sunnydale I go. Even if this super-vamp turns out to be a hoax, the hellmouth is bound to have something to keep my interest…”  
  
**  
  
 _Pleasant Dreams Motel, Sunnydale_  
November 21st 1997  
  
“What do you have to report, Kendra?” The voice echoed resonantly from the telephone receiver.  
  
Kendra frowned in mild frustration. Her attempts to locate the demon that she had fought a few days ago had proved fruitless. She had not wanted to report failure to her watcher, but it appeared she had no choice. “I located what I believe to be de dark power you described, sir.”  
  
The watcher’s pride was palpable. “Well done, Kendra. Well done indeed. It is slain, then?”  
  
The slayer winced. “No, Mr. Zabuto. It has not.”  
  
The slight chill in the watcher’s voice carried all the way from Jamaica. “What do you mean you have not slain it? You found it, didn’t you?”  
  
“Yes sir. I found it after it had killed a man in de cemetery it was in…”  
  
“I don’t care who it killed before you got there, Kendra. I want to know how you could let it escape.”  
  
The slayer flinched horribly at the disappointed tone of voice. Mr. Zabuto was getting angry. “He turned into bats, sir. They all flew away. I have not been able to find him again since then.”  
  
“Bats, you say?” Zabuto’s voice took on an intrigued tone of voice. “Most interesting. I had thought that particular element of his legend to have been purely manufactured.”  
  
“Whose, sir?”  
  
“Dracula’s, my dear. The clever old fox has quite a few gypsy tricks about him, for all his general idiocy. He reputedly told an embellished tale from his own past to a man named Stoker a few decades ago or so. Stay where you are for now, Kendra. I’m going to be coming to meet you with some backup. If this really is Dracula then we’ll need a gypsy to help us counter his bag of tricks.”  
  
“Should I continue patrols, sir?”  
  
“Yes Kendra. Do so. Do not engage Dracula again until I get there, though. That vampire has always proven difficult.”  
  
“And de other slayer?”  
  
“Is no longer a slayer… Some sort of idiot chaos mage was responsible. Ignore her and her watcher. They are no longer a concern of the Council.”  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
~~  
  
Oops... ;)  
  
Jasper


	6. Little Trees and Gypsies

I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They belong to Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano respectively.  
  
~~  
  
 _November 25th 1997  
Sunnydale High School_  
  
Elizabeth Summers, formerly the slayer, smiled faintly as she watched Willow work. Her recovery process of the past few days had given Elizabeth the time to reforge the bonds of friendship with Willow that she had allowed to atrophy since her possession.  
  
The side of her that was still Buffy was appalled at how she had allowed her friendship with her female best friend to fall by the wayside without any real cause. The side of her that was Integra was equally appalled that she had neglected to keep such a useful individual close to her. Granted Rupert and Alexander were also useful, but Willow also had some wonderful uses that neither man nor vampire could fill in for.  
  
Willow smirked slightly as she held out her hand. “I’ll just need the identifications and I can set you right up, Bu… Elizabeth… Can I call you something shorter, Elizabeth?”  
  
Elizabeth considered the request as being not too unreasonable. Many people used nicknames. Even Alexander allowed Willow to call him Xander still, though he would not hear of it from anyone else. Elizabeth suspected he got a secret thrill from essentially desecrating the name of Alexander by making it his. Anderson would likely have had a coronary at the thought. Still, Buffy was much too… cheerleader for her these days. “Beth, Willow. You may call me Beth. It is close enough to my former nickname that you will have an easier time growing used to it and yet it does not automatically lower my IQ by thirty points whenever I meet someone new.” Elizabeth drew out the identifications that Alexander had retrieved over the past few days of her recuperation.  
  
Willow picked up the proffered identifications and slowly went about the business of hacking their files, finding all sorts of intriguing things. The bank information is what she had been going for. She pursed her lips. “Your best bet is Norman Pfister. He’s a longtime assassin with a rather hefty bank account. I can manufacture something to make him into a great uncle of yours and then make you his primary beneficiary. His money all looks very legit on paper, so as long as my work is good you shouldn’t be subject to much scrutiny…”  
  
Elizabeth nodded sagely. “Excellent work, Willow. Any thoughts on the other two?”  
  
Willow nodded. “Patrice Smithers has her accounts well in order, but is not as impressive as Norman. It would be suspicious if you were to inherit from two people who died at the same relative time. I could just rewrite her will to have her donate all her money to a worthy charity…”  
  
Elizabeth considered and accepted that. “You’re right. We shouldn’t get greedy with our windfall, that would come back to bite us somewhere quite uncomfortable. And the last?”  
  
“Octarus, no last name provided. This guy is a dumb bruiser and it shows in his accounting. Very messy, very sloppy and very suspicious. I’d recommend leaving it be… Unless of course you want to subject someone to scrutiny…”  
  
Elizabeth grinned in a predatory manner. Willow was a great find indeed. She was a whole different person behind the computer. “Set things up so that the Watchers’ Council is Octarus’ primary beneficiary. I think they deserve a reward for all of their fine… help.”  
  
Willow’s smirk was devilish. How she loved a challenge.  
  
**  
  
 _November 25th 1997_  
Sunnydale High School  
  
“Hello little gypsy girl…”  
  
Jenny Calendar spun about to find Xander standing behind her. She hadn’t seen him in a while. Since Halloween he’d been missing from classes more then not and so she was rather shocked at his change in attire and posture. Still, all of that was eclipsed by what he had called her. “Are you addressing me, Xander? Because I believe that I should be addressed as Miss Calendar. I am your teacher, after all.”  
  
The smirk that appeared on Xander’s face was absolutely lecherous. “Are you going to play the disappointed school marm and naughty school boy with me, Little Gypsy? I can play if you want, but I think that Snyder would have a coronary if he caught us at it, not to mention dear Ripper…”  
  
Trying desperately to ignore the blatant innuendo and the reference to Rupert’s darker side, Jenny tried to reclaim the conversation. “Why are you calling me that, Xander? I am neither little, nor a gypsy.” She wouldn’t challenge the ‘girl’ part since he had dropped that on his own and girl could be taken multiple ways.  
  
Xander’s smirk was broad and mildly frightening. “You are little enough in size, my Little Gypsy. As for you being a gypsy, there is no denying it. I can smell the vengeance pouring off of you from a mile away. It’s delicious.”  
  
Jenny shuddered. He knew. Some how he knew. “What do you know?” Her voice was soft, carrying only the faintest hint of nervousness.  
  
Xander’s death’s head grin was enough to make her shudder again. “It occurs to me to find it strange that a gypsy would bother with the hellmouth. Especially one that is so far from home. It occurs to me that only vengeance would draw one here. And so I ask myself, what possible vengeance might our Little Gypsy be wreaking here on the hellmouth. And then I answer myself that there happens to be a vampire in residence who was once subjected to a gypsy curse, so very long ago. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Kalderash?”  
  
There it was. Out in the open. He knew everything. “What do you want, Xander? Money?”  
  
Alexander scoffed at the idea that he had brought this up to blackmail her. What did she think he was, some simpering teenager? Oh yeah… She probably did. “I have no need nor desire to blackmail you, Miss Kalderash. I wish to know what your specific mission is so that I might find out if I need to destroy you…” Alexander trailed off softly, reveling in the barely perceptible look of terror on Jenny’s face. She might believe him to be a school boy, but her instincts were apparently sharp enough to make her worried.  
  
Janna sighed and decided that he had enough already that secrecy was shot to hell. Uncle Enyos would just have to suck it up. “I am to make sure that the curse on Angelus remains strong.”  
  
Alexander nodded sagely. This he had expected, even hoped for. He despised the trash known as Angelus with a particularly venal passion. Mostly because Angelus dared to presume he might love Alexander’s master. That was unforgivable. If his master was ever to choose a vampire to mate with, an absurd notion at best, it would be Alexander himself and not some nothing. “And what is the escape clause of this curse…?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
Alexander’s jaw dropped as he sensed the truth in that statement. “You don’t know? Those halfwits wanted you to monitor that trash in case his curse failed and didn’t even bother to tell you what to prevent? What do those idiots expect you to do if the curse begins to fail? You don’t even know what would be going wrong.”  
  
Janna shrugged slightly. She had thought it was absurd too, but Uncle Enyos had insisted that it wasn’t important. “I don’t really understand the logic behind it either…”  
  
Alexander snorted. “That’s because there is no logic to it, my Little Gypsy. But never fear. I shall destroy the trash for you if his curse ever looks like fluctuating.”  
  
Janna raided an eyebrow curiously. “And how would you do that, Xander? I wasn’t aware you had the means to take on a master vampire alone…”  
  
Alexander scoffed loudly. “Master, pah! Angelus wouldn’t know a master if it bit him on the ass! I am the No-Life-King!”  
  
Janna’s eyes widened as she suddenly understood the undertones she was sensing. She read enough manga to know what Xander claimed to be and recalled Xander’s costume to understand the reason. “You dressed as Alucard… That’s why you’re so different.”  
  
Alexander clapped playfully. “Bravo, Little Gypsy. I’m glad to hear that brain of yours hasn’t festered like those of your kin apparently have. Yes, I was Alucard. And now I am Alexander.”  
  
~~  
  
Happy Halloween  
  
Jasper


End file.
